Mir.
Now he may come as soon as e'er he pleases.
I think this style—as fast men say—“the cheese” is. [Looking at her dress.
I wonder who he is, and what he's like,
And if his fancy I may chance to strike.
But where's that Caliban? he's never near
When wanted. Caliban, where are you?

Cal. (within, R.)
Here!

Mir.
Come here, slave!

Cal. (entering R. with a Wellington boot on one arm and a brush in his hand.)
Slave! come, drop that sort of bother;
Just let me ax, “Ain't I a man and a brother?”

Mir.
The airs that servants give themselves just now,
They are the “Greatest Plague in Life,” I vow.
Don't answer me, but work, you gaping swine;
Polish those boots, or else there'll be a shine.
Then come to me. [Exit by door, L.

Cal.
There, now; her dander's riz—
It's jolly hard upon a cove, it is.
List to my story; when it meets your ears
I'm sure the Boxes will be all in tears,
And in the gentle pit each gent'll pity me.
I'm plain, straightforward, honest, every bit o' me;
And though in polished articles I deal,
“A round unvarnished tale” I will reveal.

SONG. Tune—“Georgy Barnwell, good and pious.”
  Sons of freedom, hear my story,
    Pity and protect the slave,
  Of my wrongs the inventory
    I'll just tip you in a stave.
      Tiddle ol, &c. [Brushes the boot to the chorus.

  From morn till night I work like winkin',
    Yet I'm kicked and cuffed about,
  With scarce half time for grub or drinkin',
    And they never lets me have a Sunday out.
      Tiddle ol, &c.
  And if jaw to the gov'nor I gives vent to,
    He calls up his spirits in a trice,
  Who grip, squeeze, bite, sting, and torment—oh!
    Such friends at a pinch are by no means nice.
      Tiddle ol, &c.
But I'll not stand it longer, that I'll not,
I'll strike at once, now that my mettle's hot.
Ha! here he comes! Now soon I'll make things better,
“Hereditary Bondsmen,” hem! Et cetera. [Folds his arms and looks dignified. Enter Prospero, L.

Pro.
Well, sir, why don't you work?

Cal. (giving the boot a single rub.)
Ay, there's the rub.

Pro.
What! mutinous! out, vile, rebellious cub!

Cal. (with sudden vigour.)
Oh! who's afraid? Blow you and your boots together. [Throws boot down.
My soul's above your paltry upper leather.

Pro. (aside.)
That's democratic, and by no means moral! (To Caliban.)
Pick up that boot, unless you'd pick a quarrel.
You'd best not raise a breeze.

Cal.
Oh! blow your breezes,
The love of liberty upon me seizes;
My bosom's filled with freedom's pure emotions,
And on the “Rights of Labour” I've strong notions.

Pro.
You want work, then?

Cal.
No—up for my rights I'll stick;
I've long enough been driven—now I'll kick.

SONG. Tune—“When the Heart of a Man.”
When the back of a donkey's oppress'd with wares,
Which weigh rather more than his strength well bears,
  Instead of submitting he stoutly—stoutly
Plucks up a spirit and shows some airs.
  Stripes are administer'd—kicks also,
  But his stout ribs no emotion show.
    Press him,
    Caress him,
    Try kicking
    Or licking,
The more he is wollop'd the more he won't go.

Pro.
This sort of thing at once I'd better crush,
I'll stand no more—pick up that boot, then brush. [Pointing off with staff.

Cal.
Never—I swear.

Pro.
Oh! very good; we'll see, sir. [Taps his wand on the Stage. Fairy Specials appear from all parts, and commence laying on to Caliban with their slaves, chasing him round the stage.

Cal. (picks up the boot.)
Oh no, sir—don't sir,—please, sir.—Twasn't me, sir! [Runs off, followed by fairies.

Pro.
Thus disaffection should be timely checked.
Now for the Prince, whom shortly I expect;
He little thinks, in his perambulations,
How soon he'll drop upon some blood relations,
Nor that he stands on matrimony's edge,
For at his uncle's he must leave a pledge—
His heart; Miranda from his breast must pick it,
And on it lend her own—ay, that's the ticket.
I have a plan their passion to ensure—
All sorts of trouble I'll make him endure;
And on their intercourse I'll lay restriction,
So that they'll fall in love from contradiction.

Mir. (from door, L.)
Pa!

Pro.
Yes, dear!

Mir.
Come, and put some tidy things on.

Pro.
Well, look me out a collar, one with strings on. [Exit by door L. [Railway music; a bell and steam whistle. A fairy Special rises through trap, C. with a flag, and holds it out as Railway policemen do. A noise of an approaching Train is heard. Shortly after enter a fairy Locomotive, R. with Ariel, and a Special as engineer and stoker, attached to a car, in which sits Ferdinand, attended by fairy Specials. Train stops at C. Ariel and Ferdinand get out.

Ari.
Now then, sir, for the Wizard Cavern Station,
Your ticket, please—this is your destination. [Jumps into train.

Fer. (looking round amazed.)
Nay, pray explain—just say why here you bring me, [Train drives off, L.
Gone, like the baseless fabric of a thing'me!
The train has vanished into sheer vacuity,
That engine shows the greatest ingenuity.

The very line's gone. Oh, it's clear as day
That line was but a “Pencilling by the way;”
And something's rubbed it out; or 'tis perhaps
One of those airy atmospheric chaps. [Sees the door.
But ho! what's here? “A local habitation?”
Ay, “and a name.” Now for some explanation. [Reads the bill.
'Um! “Blaze of triumph!” That's a flaming placard,
I'll knock, and boldly; yes, egad, I'll whack hard. [He knocks, Prospero comes out suddenly followed by Miranda.

Pro. (fiercely.)
“Who am dat a knocking at de door?”

Fer.
It's me!

Pro.
And pray, sir, what may your intentions be?

Fer.
Pity the sorrows of a poor young man,
Whom fairy sprites have brought unto your door,
Who wishes you to give him—if you can,
A simple explanation—nothing more.

Mir. (aside.)
'Tis he, I know, with Cupid's darts I'm struck.

Fer. (seeing Miranda.)
Good Heavens! What a captivating duck!

Pro. (aside.)
They're smitten. (Aloud and sternly.) For the questions you have put,
I've but one answer, which is simply “Cut!” [Motioning his wand.

Fer. (astonished.)
Cut?

Mir.
Cut?

Pro.
Yes, cut!

Mir.
Well, really, Pa' I call
That cut the most unkindest cut of all.

Pro.
Silence, bold minx! Now, once for all, sir—hook it!
This is no inn—was it for such you took it?

Fer.
An inn your house by me was never thought to be,
Tho' I confess I really think it ought to be.
It might accommodation find at least
For man, since it accommodates a beast.

Mir.
Pa' I'm ashamed of you. [Crosses to R. (To Ferdinand.)
Sir, don't suppose
That rudeness such as that my father shows
Runs in the family. I've none of it,
I don't take after him.

Fer.
You don't, a bit.
All I can say is—if from him you came,
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name,”
And in return please to accept of me. [Opens his arms.

Mir.
I like the barter, most amazingly. [About to rush into his arms.

Pro. (Stopping her.)
Back, forward puss! egad, 'twas time to stop her;
Advances such as these are most improper.

Fer.
Our passion's sudden, but the style's not new,
We're “Romeo and Juliet” number two.
Maiden, I swear—

Pro.
Pooh! pooh! your vows are hollow as
Drums. And besides, we don't allow no followers,
Save men whose minds are honorably bent—
Not such as you—a trickster and a gent.

Fer.—(drawing his sword à la De Mauprat in “Richelieu.”)
Gent! Zounds—Sir Conjuror!

Pro.
Ho! my angry child!
You've drawn your sword—you'd best have drawn it mild. [Waves his wand. Ferdinand is transfixed and unable to move.

Fer.
Holloa! what's this? Quite powerless I'm grown;
From a real brick, I'm changed into a stone.
I don't half like it—it quite spoils one's pleasure;
This is a most unfair Coercive Measure.
Come, please to set me free, old fellow, will you?
And 'pon my word, I'll promise not to kill you.

Pro.
You plead in vain; no, there take up your dwelling,
A fatal column of my magic spelling.

Mir.
You can't be such a brute, Pa' surely no;
I'll be his bail, if you will let him go.

Fer.
Thou art my bale of precious goods the rarest,
Within my heart locked up, and safely ware'us'd,
How I'd embrace thee, were I only free!

Mir.
“More free than welcome” you could never be.

Pro. (aside.)
All right!—I've changed my mind another way;
I'll punish you; therefore be free, I say. [Fer. goes through pantomime expressive of being free.

Fer.
As the first sign of liberty I seize
The freedom of the press, or rather squeeze. [Embraces Miranda.

Pro.
Phe'w! here's an open armed and public meeting.
Egad! it's time that the Rappel was beating. [Knocks his wand on the stage as policemen do. The sound is answered, and fairy Specials flock in from all parts and group around. (To Fer. and Mir.)
Now then, disperse.

Fer.
Divide us, if you can,
I s'pose you call yourself a loyal man.

And here you're getting up an agitation,
Our union to repeal, by separation.

Mir.
Though as in Parliament, on every side
They stun our ears and cry “Divide, divide,”
Yet we'll not part.

Pro.
You won't?

Fer.
No!

Pro.
Then, of course.
The law's authority I must enforce.
Tear them asunder! [The Specials pull them apart.
Now, my loving pair,
I'll teach you both my mighty power to dare. (To Miranda.)
You, miss, I sentence, ere the moon is full,
To work six ottomans in Berlin wool. [Turning to Ferdinand.
And as for him, who'd “steal what isn't his'n,” [Indicating Miranda.
Now that he's “cotched,” of course “he goes to pris'n.”
Off with him—let him have some bread—nought richer;
His bed some straw; his only friend a pitcher.

SONG.—Prospero and Chorus. Tune—“Nix my Dolly.”
  In a box of the stone-jug all forlorn,
  Whose walls your efforts will treat with scorn,
      To break away,
All covered with irons, you'll have to lay,
Which will put a stop to your capers gay.
    Fixed, my jolly pal, there you'll stay,
    Fixed, my jolly pal, there you'll stay. [Exit into house. [Fairies march to music of the chorus, one detachment taking Miranda off by the door, L., the others taking Ferdinand off, R.

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